


These Lies

by Skinnley



Category: Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman
Genre: Abduction, Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fish out of Water, Forced Marriage, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Suicide Attempt, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-01-11 07:31:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18425874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skinnley/pseuds/Skinnley
Summary: She's been plucked away from all she has ever known, a lost child in a sea of darkness. Diana, daughter of Hippolyta, Princess of the Amazon's, has completely disappeared from existence. Thousands of miles away in the world of man, another being has been missing for nearly six months; Kal-EL, the famed Superman, gone as if he never existed.





	1. Chapter 1

_Having somebody in your mind is a surreal feeling, like a fingernail etching it's way beneath the torn skin of a fresh wound. I can feel him, inside me, picking me apart and eroding away at the corners only I have seen. I think I'm screaming, I can feel my jaw tensing, the pressure in my throat, the escape of air from my lungs; but I cannot hear. I can not make out anything in the world around me, not visually, not audibly, my site and ability to hear has completely left me. I convulse my body, slam my form against the the metallic and cold surface beneath me. I twist and I turn, I kick and make it as impossible as I can possibly think for him to cling onto me. Yet, like a parasite, he digs deeper and holds on with an even stronger grip; hands clasp my wrists, shove me down and hold me, another pair finds my ankles, I am pinned. Never in my life have I experienced this sort of weakness, the accompance of strength somehow overriding my own._

               ...

He watches, towers over every individual in the room, even the broad and tremendous Kryptonian who clasps the girl's wrists down. Her scream pierces the air, its blend such a perfect concoction of different emotions that the slightest grin etches at the corner of his lips. Causing an individual pure terror is a thrill, an adrenaline rush that floods his entire being with a feeling of pure and strong hand rises to cover her mouth, but he stops him, cuts him off before he can even hover his palm above her lips, "Don't." His advisors nods curtly, removes his hand and goes back to her head.

Wires mark her forehead, splay out to her temples, marred with the slightest and smallest needles that find their way into her flesh. Her eyes are wide open but he knows she can't see, knows that in the place of vision is nothing but the deepest and most suffocating type of darkness. Her body jerks up, her wrists for a moment breaking free from the hands grasping them, no matter how much larger they are in comparison to her own. The girl makes it all the way up, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, eyes wide as she tries desperately to see. Desaad reaches to grab her wrist, but she retaliates, fingers curling into her palm and wrist connecting with an audible crack to his face.

Even he is partially shocked, but more so, impressed;  _she was the right choice._ "Kal, subdue her." For a minute he can see the hesitation in his "adoptive son's face", that underlining of him that no matter how many therapy sessions they perform can't be completely cut out.

She's moved from the bed, backed her way into a corner as she uses her hands to feel everything around her. Fingers sliding against her forehead, they grasp the wires, and then she pulls, each hair strand thin piece of metal buzzing with an electrifying current.

...

In Amazonian combat, each and every sense acquired to the human body is used, no matter the instance. There is always the chance of being blinded, of losing your ability to hear due to an explosion or blunt force trauma; to many, losing both would be a death sentence. Luckily, she isn't most, the girl who was barely in her nineteenth year of life, the princess they snatched away like a fawn who had ventured too far from her mother.

There are no sandals at her feet, no form of barrier between her in the floor; this allows to her feel the movements around her, the vibrations of bodies surrounding her. She knows who the largest belongs to,  _him,_ but the second heaviest throws her off, and the third is nearly too light to be felt. Fingertips sprawling over a wall, she tries to fight something to throw, a crack to press her fingers beneath; she'll throw the entire damn wall if she has to. Although the buzzing wires have been ripped from her forehead, her eyes still refuse to pick up anything and no sound makes it way to her ears. Blood trickles down, clinging to her skin heavier than any tears.

Someone is moving closer, and being backed into the corner of a room is potentially damaging. In a final attempt, she lets go of gravity, smashes her entire form into the ceiling above. It rattles, an indent from her body caving in above her. That someone clasps her ankle, tugging her down with such strength that she is thrown to the floor, the bones of her left wrist snapping beneath. There is the want to scream, to revel in just a single moment of her pain, but time is not so forgiving, no matter the situation.

...

He's never met someone who was his equal in strength, who could break free from his restraints and manage to knock another man out while being blind and deaf. Pulling her to the floor took effort, so much so that he smashed her entire form into the floor, the crunch of her bones still ringing in his ears. Hurting people wasn't something he enjoyed, especially when his actions were directed at a terrified girl.

With her on the floor, Darkseid had brought his thumb down atop a small, grey button sanctioned on a slim piece of metal shard. Even though she had torn the wires from her head, they had already served their duty; the tiniest of androids, easily identified by the human body as red blood cells, had infiltrated through the veins at her forehead. From there, they would migrate to various parts of her body, allowing him control over certain aspects of her senses. He could shut her hearing off, disconnect her eyes from recognizing light, but even that wasn't the worst of it. The androids could clip to her nerve endings, allowing him to fill her body with as much pain as he felt was needed. Soon enough, the control pad would be implanted within his forearm, allowing him complete and ease of control. It was his first time testing his weapon, or more so his toy, and the thrill made his body buzzing with excitement. He watched her scream, louder than the first time, an agonizing sound that would no doubt eradicate the hearing of common earthly beings.

Her form struggled, muscles twitching as she tried in vain to push herself up from the floor with her one good hand. Pressing harder, the screaming stopped, tears streaming down her cheeks, ocean blue eyes wide and siteless.

..

When the young woman awakes, she at first thinks she is still blind, panic threatening to bloom from her mind. Soon, however, she realizes that she is back in her cell, in the clutches of the damp walls and lack of light blanketing her in a crushing embrace. The dimmest of light peaks beneath the only crack beneath the cell door, an unnatural and beaming light. Still, she pulls herself closer, curled in front of that single and only Lightforce, disparity clutching at the edges of her mind, voice a trembling note in a sea of silence,

" _A prayer of protection I say this hour,_

_to keep me from harm's way_

_for all ill-will be turned and securely kept at bay._

_Gaia herself, my protector be,_

_stands between me and all strife,_

_and cups inside her faithful hands the essence of my life._

_Gaia Great Gaia, calm my heart,_

_and create in it a new._

_Circle me with your motherness_

_as only you can do._

_Before you there was nothing, then the Earth began;_

_Keep me safe I ask you please,_

_Until I pray again."_

…

"I can not leave her to rot within his confinements." The god spoke, his thundering tone crisp yet crackling, "To become nothing short of a birthing capsule for his monstrosities." Zeus smashes his fist against the rippling water, the insight to his secret child's capture.

"Then what do you intend on doing? Telling Hera of another of your secret conceptions? If she finds out, the girl is permanently doomed."

"And what is she there, Athena? What hope does she have on a planet seeping in destruction, with that spawn of New Genesis?"

Athena meets her Father's questions with a glare; she herself had never met her secret little sister, the daughter of Hippolyta, Amazon queen who was supposed to hate men the most. She knew all about the cover-up, about the babe made of clay to the woman who wished so much to be gifted with motherhood. Rather, she was met with her child after a one night stand with the god known for freely fornicating with whoever and whatever he felt like. Regardless, she didn't wish the situation on anyone, especially the girl who knew nothing of her own birth.

"She's half  _god,_ she threw the Kryptonian off her while blind and deaf. At the very least there, she isn't in the spotlight of Hera. If you bring her back, if you show favoritism to one of your bastards, you know it will start an outcry. There is no way for you to cover up your interest in her for something else."

He sighs, running the pads of his fingertips through his hair, "She doesn't even know what she's capable of. You saw him speaking, his plans for her, his  _ideas._ If she carries his child, it will be the end of us all."

His only daughter by Metris, the eldest of all his children, crossed her arms over her chest, "We can't act, not yet."


	2. Chapter 2

Dryness coats her tongue, sticks to her throat and brings forth painful coughs when she breathes in too deeply. Hera, what she would do for the slightest sip of water. She's counted twenty-seven hours since the last time she's been out of her cell, since her main senses were cut off like wires. The memory still shook her to the core, the new feeling of fear nearly threatening to drown her insides. Never before in her life had Diana felt completely helpless, not even as a child. He was in her head, in her mind, controlling her senses as if he was another part of her body. How could she compete with that?

Bringing herself up into a sitting position, Diana rests her back against the rough wall of her cell, knees pressed against her chest. Her wrist still stings, even though the bones had nearly finished fusing back together. Nothing had ever managed to physically harm her in such a way, no matter how intense the training sessions of Themyscira were. Holding it to her chest, she closes her eyes, lashes brushing the high cheekbones. The gods had not answered her once, had no offered her the slightest message of hope, nothing to cling onto.

Tears prickle her eyes, beg to be let out so that she may voice the horror manifesting in her heart. "Mama," She whispers to the air, wishing so desperately for the embrace of her Mother, of the woman who made her feel secure. With a scream of anger, she slams her fists against the door, bringing them against the solid structure again and again. A sharp pain still lingers in her wrist, magnifying each time it makes contact with the door. Still, she refuses to cry, crinkling her eyelids so harshly shut that lights dance in the darkness.

...

The stone god watches from his screen, a cocky and god awful smirk finding its way to his thin lips, "A little fireball, isn't she?" Darkseid brings his thumb to his chin, rubbing the rough texture in thought. Dessad stands beside him, watching the child break into her outburst. A strong thing, a seemingly perfect candidate as the mother to his lord's heirs, if not someday a worthy queen. The childish breakdown was amusing as well as thrilling; it meant he would get to continue his work on his new specimen.

"When would you like me to continue, my lord?" Dessad hides his squealing excitement, the skeleton of a man practically squirming. He was itching to get back at the little bitch, especially after she broke his nose; he would make sure he repaid the favor and then some.

"Immediately."

…

Kal-El lays alone, bed still warm with the lingering presence of Lashina; it wasn't uncommon for her to join his bed, to wrinkle the staringly soft sheets. With a sigh, he leans his back on his folded arms, staring at the blank metallic ceiling above him. His mind lingers on the young woman from the day before, the exotic earthen beauty who managed to throw his arms off of her. His father had yet to reveal just what he wanted with the girl, and he knew better than to push the case.

Most nights he spent restless, tossing and turning until finally training until he was sweat soaked enough that bathing was a necessity. It wasn't as if he needed sleep, he could gain all he needed under the warmth of yellow sun rays, but still, he missed it, the calm clarity of slumber.

A feeling of uneasiness clings to him in thick consistency, plaguing his mind like some unwelcome second subconscious. He's yet to figure the feeling out, the strange sensation of guilt and anxiety clogging his other senses. Nobody can know that he, Darkseid's favorite son, warrior of Apokolips, feels such an intense and weakening emotion.

Rising from his bed, he doesn't bother with a shirt, deciding instead on sleek black pants and his standard boots. Most of the palace sleeps, yet so many still wander the halls, slaves scouring for even the slightest site of dirt, unlucky prostitutes lingering in his brother's chambers. He could hear it all, tuning his hearing like an old radio, searching for bits and pieces of things interesting and useful. There were certain rooms he could not hear into, blocked off by some sort of force field he couldn't quite figure out. A large part of him hoped to hear the mystery girl, the one taking up such a large portion of his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where are you taking me?" Diana's voice comes forward, raw and hoarse, barely a whisper between the stone walls.

Giving a tug to the restraints at her wrists, Desaad responds curtly, "To the showers." His lip twitched a bit, though he gave no further explanation; her heart was beating in her chest so erratically she half expected to vomit. The tunnel-like hallway was damp and smelled of mildew, water dripping from the metallic ceiling and clinking against the floor beneath her bare feet.

When they came to a large, rusted door, the thin man opened it curtly, nearly shoving the girl in and locking the door behind them. "The door is locked and can only be opened via fingerprint. Any attempt to escape will result in the same treatment you received the night of your arrival. Do you understand, child?" The authoritative tone to his voice brought about an irritated scowl to her pretty features, dark brows furrowing against her forehead.

"Do. You. Understand?" His grip tightens, tugging her forward; their height matched, her build seemingly healthier and stronger. However, she could feel his strength, far more than she could in comparison to her sisters with the exception of Donna.

His hot breath radiated on her cheeks, stale breath violating her sense of smell. In response, she spit into his face, the anger that flashed into his eyes causing a smile to appear on the young girls face.

"You little bitch." Snarling, he pushed her to the floor, the constraints at her hands tightening to such an intense grip it dug into the bones of her wrists. Turning away from her and to the faucets at the wall, he twists several, until water pours from the ceiling in hard bursts.

A chemical scent fills in the air, strong and potent like vinegar, but far more unnatural smelling. Diana grits her teeth, Desaad grabbing her by her hair and tugging her up to her feet. With one hand at her back, he keeps her pressed into the wall, then with the other, he grasps at the hem of her soiled toga. With a single tug, he rips it from her flesh, throwing it to the sopping ground before doing the same with her undergarments.

She begins to scream, attempting to throw him off, to rid the pressure of his body of her own; she knows these stories, she had heard them a million times, was promised to be protected from them. "No!" Knocking the back of her head against his nose, she pushes away, stumbling into the wall before regaining her stance. Blood tints the water, pouring from his nose like a crimson waterfall. For a second time, the little earth girl has busted the god of tortures nose into an unnatural position.

The constraints refused to budge, no matter how hard she attempted to rip her hands apart from one another. Rather, a shooting pain vibrated through the hard material, traveling through her body at a mind numbing speed. Again, she found herself out the ground, mind spinning and the ceiling around her following suit. Desaad's furious scowl came into her blurry vision, droplets of the laced water stinging her eyes.

He kneels over her, leering above her, blood still trickling over his pale flesh and dripping onto her bare shoulder, "I will break you far worse than any other experiment I've had the pleasure of working upon." He speaks like a snake, a constant hiss in his raspy tone.

Pushing himself to his feet, he unwinds a long rusted tube from the wall before slamming his fist down on decade-old buttons. Water gushes from the tip, thin and nimble fingers coming forward to hold the top before he brings it to her face. Dessad tilts her head up so that her nose and mouth are elevated further, bringing the spout full force against the two openings. The water pushed its way down her nostrils, filling her mouth far faster than she could swallow. It burned her insides, blocking out any form of breath.

...

The ocean water was always a perfect lukewarm temperature, an inviting degree the amazons adored relaxing and playing in, even throwing the occasional practice into something swimming based. Diana had learned to swim by the age of three, powering her little body through the water and waves like a lithe water nymph. For years her dreams were of diving further up, of pummeling through the sky without the use of her flying abilities. To allow the wind to breeze through her hair and over her skin, to let nature be the cushion beneath her fall.

At ten years old, her strength already greatly preceded that of even there most skilled, each begging inquiry to her mother of her dreams were promptly shut down, with warnings of safety and promises of taking up the challenge when she was older.

The stubborn child had decided to take matters into her own hands, knowing she could handle it, that she was a grown enough amazon warrior to take on something as silly and simple as cliff diving. She had waited until the early hours of the morning, when the only light in the dawn sky was still that of the blinking stars and the glowing moon. Her sandals had been shed, set carefully aside for later. The girl took a running head start, running far faster than any human could dare dream to. Upon reaching the edge, she took off, leaping into the air with a diving form befitting of any half god child.

Hitting the water had been adrenalizing and liberating, the water splashing against her flesh, the moonlight the only source above the deep ocean she went deeper and deeper, she was entranced, blue eyes wide and looking at all the deeply hidden caves of a world unknown to her. Diana was gifted with the ability to hold her breath far longer than most, but still, the itching need of oxygen had begun to linger heavier and heavier on her mind. Finally, she pushed her body up, expecting for the surface to be just above. In expectation, she opened her mouth, ready to gulp in the sweet crispness of fresh air. Instead, salty seawater filled her, spilling to her lungs with an explosive pain.

...

"Father." Kal-El bows before his adoptive father, Darkseid's red eyes seemed distant and vacant. Hearing his son's voice, he turns, the slightest hint of a smile edging at the corners of his thin lips.

"Kal-El, my son, a congratulation is in order, I've heard. Your third success so far." He raises a broad hand, resting it on his shoulder, "You've yet to have a single failure at your fingertips."

"Nor will I ever." Smirking for a moment, his expression soon changes into something far more serious, "I have a question, if I may."

Raising his brow, Darkseid settles himself into the comfort of his throne, "Perhaps. Speak and I will see what I can do."

"The girl, the one from Earth. What is the purpose of her arrival?"

The new god stayed silent for a moment, his expression becoming distant and unreadable. He was well aware it wouldn't take the brainwashed hero long to question the girls arrival, his mind always thinking and questioning, searching for answers to anything and everything.

"You know you will always be my son, Kal-El, no matter of your biological birth. There are things I need to ensure, however, needs...I need to fulfill. What sort of ruler would I be without having heirs to my throne?"

The Kryptonians brows had furrowed, an intrigued and confused look upon his face, "You chose an earthling to be your queen?"

"She is no earthling, you should know that much is obvious. Her likeness is similar to that of me, of you, even. The blood in her veins...is incredibly special, as is the genetics she can carry onto my future children."

"What of Kalibak?"

"Do you truly view your brother to be worthy of a position such as my own?" The god scoffed, shaking his head, "It's not a possibility I'd like to even consider. No more questions, Kal-El, leave my presence and leave the earth girl alone."

Gritting his teeth, the adopted prince obeyed, nodding before leaving the presence of his so-called "father".


	4. Chapter 4

**Six Months Later**

The center of her quarters dips down, rounding out into a large bathing pool; she sits with her back pressed against the smooth metallic outline, knees pulled to her chest in such a tight embrace it nearly crushes her ribs. This was her  _reward,_ her promotion for giving in, for giving up. A mute slave girl kneels behind her, running a brush through the princesses raven locks, her eyes dull and nearly lifeless. Diana had tried at first to talk to her, to spry up a conversation, that was until she discovered the girl's tongue had been completely removed. Now the silence was all they shared, a deep and pitiful thing that only made the loneliness the Amazon felt inside deeper and more profound.

Sliding doorway clicking, she could tell already who it was, the vibrations of his step echoing across the floor and rippling the water in the tub. She kept the lights of her chambers dimmed, with only a few kept on; his red eyes glowed brightly, grey arms folded behind his back, "You never came down for dinner." She tensed, sinking down further in the water, heart hammering so quickly that a sickly feeling pooled in her belly and brought nausea up to her throat.

"I'm sorry, my lord, I wasn't feeling well and I..got lost in my bath." His eyes trailed over her exposed arms and shoulders. She hated his eyes the most, even individuals with the flattest of features could be read simply by their eyes, but his only tone was the same bleak red.

"I'll be waiting in my personal dining quarters, meet me there in fifteen minutes, no more, no less. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lord Darkseid." She kept her tone steady, her eyes on his own; she may have failed her Amazon training by weakening under his restraints, but she would at the very least hold her head up in his presence.

When his broadly intimidating form was gone, doors clicking shut behind him, she rose from the water, olive skin dripping and heavy thick locks clinging to her bare back and shoulders. The slave girl dabbed at the water, patting Diana's flesh until she was dry. The princess winced at this, she may have been royalty on her home planet, but it was nothing like  _this._ She wished nothing more than to know the girl's name, the little hatchling seemed hardly thirteen or fourteen years of age; a slight thing with fine blonde hair and wide-set blue eyes, always dressed in the same tone of grey as the other slaves.

After being rubbed down in scented oils and hair brushed, a burgundy dress was slid over her figure, the shoulders left mostly exposed but a fingerless glove applied that rose to the forearm. The straps were slender and slim in size and cloak of sorts rested over the shoulders with a collar that covered the entirety of her neck. The shoes were soft and silky slippers, smooth beneath her heel and toes, and for that she was thankful. Some days he preferred her in armor, others in different variations of dresses; today was a dress day, a "you're my future wife" day. The slave girl finished a final lace before stepping back, folding her hands against her lap and nodding once. Diana offered her a smile before thanking her, the small girl giving her own half-smile in return, it was something, at the very least.

...

The hallway to his personal chambers wasn't very far from her own, something he planned in accordance, she was sure. Everything was so metallic, so heavily cleaned, she could see bits and pieces of her reflection dancing across the walls, ceiling, and floor. Apokolips in itself was a desolate planet, hot and arid, the sky always a fume ridden red, chemicals heavy and clouds persistent with acidic rainfall. Darkseid's personal realm, however, was a spotless and futuristic place with clean air and extensive architecture and design. Certain areas were kept cruder, mostly the holding cells and designated torture rooms.

For a moment, it was only the slight tapping noise of her flats against the floor in the air, until something else joined. She had been staring at the floor, counting her heartbeats, trying in a vain attempt to breathe and calm herself when she realized someone else was walking down the same hallway. Looking up, she froze, eyes wide and breath even pausing; she knew of him, had seen him a time or two. Her captor's adoptive son, far more beloved than Darkseid's other biological offspring, Kalibak.

…

Kal-El's mind was a hurricane, messy and destructive to everything around it. His brow was furrowed, a tenseness in his muscles that could only be solved by a good spare session. Frustration was heavy on his shoulders, fumes heavily rising to his head. It wasn't as if he was a quick man to anger, no, often he was praised for his patience, his careful decision making, even if many of his traits were the exact opposite of that to his adoptive father.

The smell in the air was heavy of disinfectant, until something else chimed in, something sweeter without the burning added chemical attribute. There was also the addition of a quickly beating heartbeat and fast pumping blood. She had frozen when she saw him, an unreadable expression upon her face. His father's betrothed, the princess from Earth that managed to break his restraint on her while blinded. He knew she visited with Darkseid often now, that his father seemed entranced and obsessed with her. The ceremony for their marriage was approaching steadily and it seemed the closer it got the more time his father wanted to spend with his soon-to-be queen.

"Are...you alright?" He kept his voice gentle, blue eyes tranquil and calm, the blazing anger in his chest simmering and calming as if a gentle rainstorm had deflected his burning coals.

She hesitated,  _of course, she wasn't_ , "Yes, thank you." Kal-El listened to the tone of her voice, the natural melody to it. Their interaction had been slight, her move to the first floor only recent. It had taken six months for Desaad to get through to her, according to Darkseid, for her to see things the right way. Kal-El found himself struggling to follow the beliefs of his father more and more, although he tried his best to, often ignoring the feeling in his stomach that told him something wasn't right.

"Where are you going?" He let himself inquire further, though he feared the answer he already knew.

"Darkseid's quarters." There was no emotion in her voice, but her teal eyes shown with something he couldn't completely identify; fear, hate, disgust? He couldn't tell.

He wasn't sure what else to respond with, what other conversation he could possibly make, he had slightly parted his lips when she spoke, "I can not be late, have a good evening, Kal-El." And then, she was gone, down the hallway, burgundy gown reflecting on the walls as she went.

_Kal-El._

He would play her voice over in his mind for the days to come.

…

Dinner was painful, each bite heavy and hard to swallow; at first she had simply scooted the food on her plate around, feeling so sick she didn't think she could take a bite. Darkseid had quickly told her to eat, lest she needed another round in Desaad's torture chambers.

"Are you enjoying your new room?"

"Yes, my lord, thank you."

"And the slave girl? Does she keep up?"

"She does."

He nodded, bringing his spoon to his mouth, it was a strange thing, seeing this humanoid creature do something so casual, so  _normal._ Diana missed dinners with her mother and little sister, she missed the celebrations and mass feasts with all of her sisters, the glowing happiness of their island home. She wanted to cry, to sob and wail and throw herself on the floor like she had done as a small child, to plead with the gods about all the unfairness in the world. Instead, she sat, eating strange food on a different planet, with a god who promised, who swore, to make her his wife, to make her the carrier of his offspring; eating was only becoming more and more difficult.

"You haven't even sipped at the wine, it's an earthly brew, something special I acquired just for you, princess. Are you not so thankful to at the very least try it?" His eyes had become slits, fingers tapping atop the table in a steady and slow motion.

Quickly, she drank from her chalice, the sweet tanginess actually joyful atop her tongue. She decided to drink deeply, to let herself relish in the warmth of alcohol and the temporary comfort it could bring.

He seemed to smirk slightly, a devious look on his stone cold face, "Tomorrow, I want you to begin sparing with Kal-El instead of the furies. You've shown countless times that you are more than able to find victory against them. Kal-El can test your abilities far better than they."

This brought a slight raise to Diana's eyebrows, curiosity teeming in her mind. A new training partner would at the very least be something new, a different way to vent her pain and anger. That, and the fact that the Kryptonian was extremely interesting, especially in the way of his actions. Sometimes she thought of him as a fool, so blinded to the atrocities his father created and believing so keenly what he was told.

"There are thirty-seven days until our union, are you excited?" He smirks at this, watches her squirm in her chair and her fingers tense around her glass. Getting under her skin brought a strange joy to him, riling her up until her anger brought her to a standing position. A few times he had riled her up so much that she had struck at him, her slender fingers somehow forming a solid fist that did, in fact, hurt when it connected with his jaw. Desaad had enjoyed the hours to come after her little outburst, picking apart her brain and frying her flesh until she vomited blood. He greatly enjoyed the spitfire of a warrior she was, her willingness to stand up for herself even in such a bleak situation. However, he enjoyed breaking her more; he could have brainwashed her like had Kal-El, had Granny toy around with her mind until she believed a completely different truth.  _But this,_ this knowing that she could never escape, this trap of eternity she was being forced to endure, no matter how many times she got up, how many times she tried to escape, he would knock her back down. He would deviate and destroy and conquer and she would never again enjoy her freedom, never again walk across the sandy shores of her homeland. She was his forever, and no matter her fighting spirit, he would never let her go.

"What do you think?"  _There it was, that warrior trait,_ her eyes narrowed, fingers squeezing so tightly around her glass he was waiting for it to break.

"If you break that glass, I will ensure you clean it up with your tongue,  _princess._ " Standing, he slowly makes his way to her side of the table, fingertips trailing over her shoulder and to her hair. Her body tenses and she looks away, closing her eyes, waiting for the impact of his fist. Darkseid's fingers make their way to her hair, his fist grasping at the thick strands and pulling tight, forcing eye contact, his breath hot against her cheek.

"You are lucky I do not take you now like a common whore. I'm allowing you the privilege of being my queen, the ruler of Apokolips, of countless worlds and galaxies, and instead, you repay me with petty remarks and anger, you repay me by showing how unthankful you are." He leans in closer, lips pressing against her neck, inhaling deeply at the scent on her warm skin. She is rigid and at that moment she can feel the tears pricking her eyes, the warmth running down her cheeks.

"Leave me now, Diana." He turns away, arms folded behind his back, voice bitter, "Before I change my mind about waiting." She is gone in seconds, running as fast as her legs will carry her.

That night she sobs, dread sewing itself into every inch of her skin.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce Wayne gave a sigh of frustration, the glowing monitor in front of him highlighting the dark circles beneath his eyes. It had officially been one year since the disappearance of Clark Kent, or better known to the world as, “Superman”. Every lead was a dead end, every pathway leading to nothing but a hard wall, each whispering hint fruitless. For three hundred and sixty-five days, he had searched, and each of those days had come to nothingness. One day the man of steel existed, and then the next, all traces of him were gone. So far, between himself and Kara, they had managed to keep the Kryptonians disappearance secret, covering by using Clark’s look-alike IA’s he had kept for safekeeping in the fortress of solitude. Eventually, however, someone would figure it out, and when they did, the world would be in trouble. 

“None of this makes any damn sense.” He growled out, slamming his fist on the desk before running his hand through his ink-black hair, causing it to stand on end. Alfred cleared his throat behind him, holding a tray that contained a steaming plate of food. “Is everything alright, Master Bruce?” Cocking an eyebrow, he set the plate atop the desk, as well as a short glass filled with an amber-colored liquid. 

“I suppose I’m more used to solving a case than not, especially one this large. People,  _ Kryptonians,  _ don’t disappear. Not even Martha or Johnathon Kent had a single clue where their adoptive son was. Bringing the glass to his lips, he sipped the dark whiskey, the bitter yet sweet liquid flooding his stomach with warmth. 

“I have faith that you will figure it out, sir.” He placed a hand on the shoulder of the man he had taken care of since he was an infant before turning and leaving the Batcave, allowing Bruce to be alone with his frustration. 

…

“You’re strong, but you have little in the form of tactics in your fighting.” Diana floated about the Kryptonian, hair braided tightly and resting between her shoulder blades. The artificial lights of the practice arena highlighted the sweat on her brow, but otherwise, she remained untouched. “Unless of course, you’re going easy on me because I’m a woman.” Her heart was racing, not from fear, but from the adrenaline of their sparring, and she had to admit that it felt good. While Kal-El seemed to hold back, she let loose, using her full force with each contact she made with him. Each time she met her target, each punch and kick was filled with anger, six months world since her arrival on the planet. 

Kal-El pushed himself up from the ground below, a slight ring in his ears from the last punch she had made to his head. He had to admit, she was good, almost  _ too good,  _ and obviously well trained. Perhaps not all humans were slight and fragile like his adoptive Father had constantly proclaimed. It was true, during the beginning of their spar, he was going slightly easier on the girl. He had no want to harm her, and admittedly felt a been entranced by her presence, much like he had felt several times before during their slight interactions. 

“You’re good.” He offered, a stale compliment and he knew it. 

She snorted in response, crossing her arms over her chest and lowering to the ground. Kal took this opportunity to swing at her, a move that she quickly avoided. Attempting to bring him to the ground with a kick to the knee, she instead felt the pressure of his hand grasping her just above the knee. Immediate bile rose in her throat, too many memories of Darkseid's rough fingers grasping at her flesh. She was frozen in place, the racing of her heart different this time and instead a fearful one.  _ Amazons are not supposed to feel fear.  _

Kal-El’s ears immediately picked up on the quickening of her heart and he released, the young woman quickly turning away from him.  _ Amazon’s are not supposed to cry.  _ A heaviness settled in her throat and she could feel the tears forming in her eyes, but she swallowed it all away, closing her eyes tightly until she saw flickers of light. Her fingers were curled into fists, nails digging into the soft skin of her palms and leaving behind crescent moons. A memory of her mother floated into her mind, a sliver of the past that seemed to become blurrier every day. She wanted her mother more than anything, craved the protection and love of her embrace. For years she had fought Hippolyta, screamed and fought and swore she could protect herself, begged to see the world beyond their island. Now, she felt like the biggest fool, yearning for the protection and safety of that island. 

“Does he...hurt you?” Kal-El’s voice was soft, almost seeming to hold a hint of concern and care.  

How could he not know? Was he so blind to the monstrosity that was his Father? She wanted to scream and yell, to voice all the suffering that seemed permanently take roots in his chest. However, exhaustion had also taken root in her, a debilitating thing that scraped at every corner of her mind. How much longer could she keep fighting? How much longer could she hold on? 

“Everyday.” She spoke strongly, the word bitter, the shake in her voice hidden beneath her anger. 

There it was again, that same gnawing feeling in his chest that screamed something wasn’t right. Every day there seemed to be less and less good in his father's actions and each day he wondered more and more how much of everything around him was a lie. “He’s not here right now, you know. He’s visiting a neighboring planet, he won’t be back for several days.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he was trying, desperately looking for some way to make things right, at least for the woman in front of him. 

“I’m aware.” He had departed nearly four hours ago, coming in the early hours of the morning to tell her goodbye. The taste of his mouth on hers still had her stomach in a tight knot of disgust, as had his reminder of their impending joining. He also spoke of his disappointment of not being able to see her and Kal-El’s first sparring session. 

“Darkseid found me as an infant, only a few weeks old, aboard a ship my biological father had sent me to safety in. He has treated me like a son since then, even naming me above his other two. He’s always claimed everything he was doing was for the good of others, that each planet he conquered needed his assistance. Every single time, he has an excuse, an answer, and for so long I have followed and believed but I...I’m not so sure anymore.” 

Slowly, she turned, fingers relaxing from their intrusion upon her palms. “He is a monster, Kal-El. Nothing your father does is good.” This time, she spoke in a whisper, afraid others would hear her speak out against her soon to be husband. Everyone in this world was desperate to be on Darkseid's goodside. 

“What happened on the day he brought you here?” He had stepped closer to her, standing so close he could make out the slivers of green in her eyes. 

Diana gave a sideways glance before speaking, “We can’t talk here.” 

“We could go to my quarters, we can talk privately there.” When she looked at him skeptically, he grimaced, “I would never hurt you, ever.” He wanted her to believe him,  _ needed  _ her to. The only world he thought he knew was crumbling around him. 

“What...if someone sees? Won’t they ask questions, like why is Lord Darksed’s betrothed sneaking off with his son?” 

“Not if we move fast enough.” He held his arms out and tentatively, she stepped closer, taking a short intake of breath when he effortlessly lifted her into his arms. She knew of his strength, heard whispers of it being equal with Darkseids. Yet, when he held her, he was not only gentle but seemed to be making a careful effort to not make her uncomfortable. 

“Ready?” He asked softly, absentmindedly studying the wavey lengths of raven hair that had escaped her braid. When she nodded, he moved, the air around them seemingly turning into wind for just a moment. In seconds, they were in his quarters, the heavy metal doors closing behind them. Setting her down, Diana took the chance to look around, studying the large room the Kryptonian claimed as his own. It was incredibly plain, as seemed to be the theme with the entirety of Darkseid's residence.  The walls and floor had the same metallic smooth silver covering as everything else, a large bed resting in the middle of the far wall. Various pieces of armor rested against the walls, well taken care of and shining in the light. She had expected the space to be more personal, considering he had supposedly spent his entire life here. Yet, it was just as devoid of emotion as every other aspect of the planet she had seen so far. 

“Which part do you want to know?” She sat on the edge of the bed, removing the clasp from the end of her thick braid. He felt slightly captivated, watching her work her slender fingers through each length of hair until it fell in bouncy curls over her shoulders. 

“All of it.” 

_ Six Months Ago _

The sun was high in the sky, beaming down warm rays that brought the sandy shores of Themyscira to a comfortable warmth. Donna sat, feet resting just where the waves met, counting each time the water met her toes as she waited for her sister. While both had training, Diana’s was much longer and more in-depth, partially because she was older, the other reason being that she was the heir. The eleven-year-old girl gave a disgruntled sigh, flopping back into the ground, knowing her mother would comment on the specks of sand clinging to her hair. 

“Patience is as important to the amazons as bravery, little sister.” Diana grinned, tossing her bag to the side. Donna gave a squeal of delight, scampering up from the floor and practically flinging herself at her sister. She was tall for her age, much like Diana had been, the girls nearly identical in appearance. 

“What took you so long?” She looked up, wrinkling her nose and giving her sister the standard stink-eye she gave whenever she was running late. 

“Artemis was in a mood. I thought she was going to make me run laps around the entire island. Or shoot me with an arrow.” 

“Artemis is always in a mood,” The girl quipped, releasing her sister from her embrace, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I think she was born that way. Just like you were born sassy and hard-headed.” Donna stuck her tongue out in response, opening her mouth to say something when Diana cut her off. 

“Come on, I want to show you something.” Holding out her hand, their fingers were quickly intertwined, moving away from the beach and into the thick vegetation nearby. 

“Where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise, one you’ll enjoy, I promise.” The pair swung their connected hands, the little world around them a comforting embrace of safety and familiarity. Ten minutes later, they came to a waterfall, the site beautiful and tranquil. While the island was small, there were still spaces yet to be explored, although the amount of secret spots had been incredibly decreased since Diana had learned to walk. 

“It’s so pretty!” Donna exclaimed, moving towards the crystal clear water and giggling at the plashing water that made contact with her skin. Diana laughed, tugging at her sisters arm, “Come on, we’re going to fly, right up there,” WIth her other arm, she gestured to the space between the high rocks and the waterfall. 

“I’m still not very good at flying.” Donna frowned, glancing down at her feet, looking up when soft fingers trailed through her hair, “It took me years to get it down perfectly, Donna. Come on, we’ll do it together.” 

Slowly, Diana rose into the air, still clasping hands with her sister. Carefully, Donna joined her, growing slightly more nervous the higher up they got. “We have to go through the water, are you ready?” Grinning, the older girl released her sister's hand, bursting through the waterfall and disappearing behind it. With no other choice, Donna followed, screeching when the water drenched her hair and clothes. 

Once through the wall of water, a small cave was nestled, hidden behind the waterfall, unknown to any but the two girls within it. “Our own little place.” Diana smiled, leaning against a bit of stone, “Come here, little one.” 

Pulling a slight but sharp dagger from the sheath on her left hip, Diana turned to the wall of stone, carefully carving her name into the hard surface. Her neat penmanship always made Donna a bit jealous, even her wall carving seemingly impeccable. Handing the dagger off to her sister, she had barely begun carving her own name when the world around them trembled. 

“Diana?” Donna gave her sister a wide-eyed stare, insensitively moving closer into her sister's arms as the earthquake continued. Diana’s brow furrowed, but if she felt an ounce of fear, she didn’t show it. 

“Stay here.” With a final squeeze, Diana was gone, disappearing through the water in seconds. 

Floating in the air, the princess looked around, looking for anything that could be causing the world around them to tremble. It was then that she saw it, what looked like a tear in the air, a gleaming portal. “What in Hera’s name…” Slowly she approached closer, fingers hovering just above the shimmering orange when a voice grabbed her attention away. It was a tone she had never heard before, deep and gravely, bitter and devoid of any emotion, but most importantly, it was  _ masculine.  _

Turning quickly, her eyes widened at the humanoid looking being before her. While he resembled the men she had seen in books and statues, he also looked entirely different. His skin was grey and appeared more like stone, his height reading seven feet at the very least, and his eyes...his eyes were the color that she imagined Tartarus looked like. 

“Who are you, creature?!” She squared her shoulders, keeping her chin held high as she addressed the being intruding upon her home. While she felt fear, she refused to show it, her hand sliding to the sheath on her hip before she remembered the dagger was still in the cave, with Donna. 

A grin plastered itself across his features, Tartarus eyes settled on her and her only, “We will be well acquainted soon enough, princess.” 


End file.
